Masked
by Phoebsfan
Summary: Sydney questions herself and the masks she wears.
1. Masquarade

Masked  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Sydney, Noah, Laura, Jack, or Danny... Vaughn... sigh... ok I don't own him either... Darn it. Talk to abc, touchtone, jj abrams or bad robot productions for the who owns who information. I'm just borrowing them for some fanfiction fun.  
  
Rating: PG-13 I don't know probably more of a PG but I don't know I'm going for safety...  
  
Summery: Sydney's thoughts right after she and Noah sleep together.  
  
AN: ok now technically we don't know if they actually did sleep together but I'm betting they did and you know what I'm pretty sure that's a safe bet. Contrary to all those other after the incident or during the incident fics this fic is not really about Vaughn and Sydney. But then again it's all about Vaughn and Sydney. Confused? Good. Smiles.  
  
  
  
  
  
I didn't even know it was him.  
  
We were in disguises, we were playing roles. Of course it took me awhile to figure out that the man holding me was Noah.  
  
It was logical.  
  
But part of me is still busy chastising myself over not knowing.  
  
We used to be lovers. He used to know every part of me and I of him.  
  
It bugs me that it took so long to figure out who he was.  
  
It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. There was no way for me to be prepared for it. I don't think about him enough to expect him to walk back into my life.  
  
I used to. I used to wish that every contact was him.  
  
But I gave that up shortly before Danny.  
  
As I pull my shirt back on, I'm concerned.  
  
Concerned that I hadn't recognized him, even with the mask.  
  
After his revelations, about how I was the last and only person he wanted to see again, it felt good. It was nice to have someone say that about me, touching.  
  
What we did afterward... I don't yet know if I'll regret it.  
  
I don't know if I trust him either. This isn't just the damaged little girl talking. If it was maybe then things would be easier, maybe then deciding where we go after this wouldn't be so hard.  
  
I was there when he was debriefed.  
  
I've been in that seat. I've lied in that seat and had it go unnoticed.  
  
He could have done the same. He could be K-Directorate.  
  
Maybe it is the wounded little girl in me after all. Maybe I'm just so scared that he'll hurt me again that I'm imagining all these little things. Maybe I want this or something like it and that scares me.  
  
Noah was the first after Danny. Maybe that's why I'm going slightly crazy right now.  
  
Still... I should have recognized him.  
  
I don't know. I just have this feeling that I can't shake about this whole situation.  
  
In one sense what we did was nice and something I'd like to repeat, but then in another it was wrong and not about love but about wanting, needing.  
  
I know that he's changed, that I've changed, that our masks hid more then our physical traits. It's just that I want to believe that I'd recognize him.  
  
Especially since I just slept with him.  
  
He seems to know what to say. I can't help but wonder if he's been coached. He never was that good with words before.  
  
Maybe it's the recent developments with my mother that want to put him in the bad guy slot. What she did to my father, how she played him... I can't help but wonder if this is the same.  
  
I used to trust him. I want to trust him. I want to trust myself with him.  
  
But I can't. And that scares me.  
  
When I was little, I had this little ritual that I'd do before bed. I don't know why I'm remembering it now. But I used to check under my bed for monsters, turn off the light, then run and jump into my bed from about five feet away. Then I'd have my mother come in and check for me.  
  
She'd come in and turn on the light, make a big show about making sure that there was nothing there, then she'd kiss me goodnight and make sure that I was ok before leaving.  
  
It was only a phase I went through but regardless she came into my room and checked for monsters until her accident.  
  
I guess I still want someone to check for monsters. I still want someone to tell me that it's all going to be all right.  
  
Like my mother, Noah knew what to say. He knew how to hold me and he still knows how to make me feel special.  
  
But what if there aren't any monsters under my bed because I let them in it with me. What if like my mother, Noah just knows how to twist me around his finger?  
  
Unlike my mother however, when he checks for monsters I don't quite believe him.  
  
I guess I'm just looking under the bed again.  
  
I would have recognized Danny in that mask.  
  
I would have recognized Vaughn in that mask.  
  
I didn't recognize Noah.  
  
I don't know what that means. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.  
  
But I don't think I am.  
  
What have I done?  
  
I think I might be starting to regret it.  
  
I think that this might have been stupid.  
  
And I know that this is going to hurt me.  
  
Funny, this is one thing that I can't seem to talk to with any one. I'm just now realizing this.  
  
I wish I would have realized it before.  
  
Now I'm remembering all the secret meetings between Noah and I. Now I'm remembering all the lies we told to cover our relationship up. I'm remembering the hurt that came with those lies. I'm remembering the insane lengths we went to.  
  
I wish I would have remembered before.  
  
If I choose to pick things up with Noah things will only be worse. I'll only have to lie more. I don't know if I want to.  
  
My loneliness should not be the biggest factor in my decision. My need to have someone understand me and why I do the things that I do, why I can't quit my job, why I'm gone on business trips all the time, shouldn't be the biggest factor.  
  
My feelings should be what decide this. My feelings about him.  
  
Now is when I really wish I could trust him. When I really wish I could take off my mask.  
  
But I can't. I know that if I did something bad would happen. I don't know how I know, I just do.  
  
Noah might claim to love me, but I don't believe him.  
  
I can't believe him. I won't.  
  
And one phrase seems to keep running through my mind.  
  
One phrase that somehow meant more to me then any of Noah's sweet talk.  
  
A phrase I haven't been able to forget since I heard it.  
  
I believe in you.  
  
I don't think he will now.  
  
And I don't know why that matters so much to me. 


	2. Still Masked

Disclaimer: Check chapter one

Summery: Syd questions herself after Noah's death.

A/N: Originally only meant for a one shot kinda deal but well... tonight's ep just got me going on this reoccurring theme.

I didn't know it was him.

Masks, disguises, pretty little lies all tied up with a nice bow.

I didn't know it was him.

He's dead because I didn't know it was him.

I should have known.  There is no excuse for me now.  He was in my life.

I know that once more logic tells me to stuff it, that I thought he was on some island sitting in the sun and missing me.

God I killed him because I didn't know it was him.

Forget all the issues I'd been having before about Vaughn and Noah.  About not being able to tell Vaughn about Noah and I.

I.  Killed.  Him.

After all my concerns I still let myself trust him.  I still wanted to be with him.  

I wanted to believe him so badly that I did.

I ignored everything, everything that anyone told me about him.

Because I wanted to believe that he had taken off his mask.

I was so blind I never saw the black ski mask.  Not until it was right there in my face.

He had identifying marks.  And he wasn't trying to kill me.

He didn't grab the knife.

I did.

All because I failed to put two and two together.  I failed to recognize him once again.

After sleeping with him, after all the time we'd spent together...

I still didn't know him.  Now I never will.

I loved him.  I believed him.  I let myself trust him.

But still I never knew him.  I want to know if I missed something.  If I let myself be fooled into believing his lies...  If my feelings had blinded me.

I know they did.  I don't want to know it.  I don't want to believe it.

I want to believe him; in all the lies he sold me.

His job is to lie.  I knew that going in.  

He's not the first to use me.

But he loved me.  I know he did.

Does that make all the lies ok?  Does that make the masks ok?

I don't know.  I'm so cold.

Cold like that night.  That night when I gave up everything for a moment in time, that moment that lead to here.

Cold like nothing can stop me from shaking.

Cold like all of a sudden all my masks have been ripped off and everything is showing.  I claw desperately to pick them up and put them back on but it's not working.

My eyes reveal all my lies, I'm sure of it.

That night Noah took the chill from my veins.

There is no one now.  No one to hold me close and tell me that everything is going to be all right.

That I'm ok.

That it's not my fault.

That it's ok that I didn't recognize him.

There is no one now to tell me all those pretty lies that I want to hear.

No one to tell me that I'm not my mother...  That I'm not my father...

I was so afraid of becoming my mother, I wonder though if I should fear becoming my father more.

See there is no one to meet on the beach, no one at the pier, the observatory...

No one at the warehouse.

Because I put on another mask for him.  The one man in my life who I never had to wear a mask for.

The one man who I trust without question.

I lied to him.  I pushed him away.  I wasn't fine.  I was far from fine.

He saw through my masks.  I know he did.  I know it hurt him.  That I hurt him.

And now I'm cold and can't get rid of this chill.

It's all my fault.

Every last piece of it.

I've got so many masks I don't know if anyone will be able to help me take them off now.

I'm walking all over.  I don't know where I'm going.  

I've been to the beach.

I cried as the icy water lapped around my ankles.  Cried as the sand dried and crusted on my feet.

Then I put my shoes back on, wrapped my jacket more tightly, and started walking again.

The last place Noah and I were truly happy.

The last place we pretended that we were mask free.

The pier.  I look around and realize I'm at the pier.

I cling to the railing, the metal cold and smooth under my hands.  I cry again.

Not for Noah this time.  For me.

For the damn cold that just won't go away.  For my numb hands, my blind heart.

I want his arms around me again.  Why did he lie to me?

He wanted to protect me, he said.  

I wouldn't have killed him if I had known.  How was his lie protecting me?  How was his mask making me safe?

Now I'm out here dying because of his mask.

No.  I'm not.  I'm not dying.  

This is not like Danny.  This is completely different.  I'm not crying because he is no longer with me.  I'm not crying because he was an innocent man.  Or because I can't imagine my life without him.

I'm crying because I killed him.

"Are you ok?"  His voice is warm and welcoming.  I risk a glance.

He's still just as concerned as before.  He is still here even after I tried to push him back.

"How did you find me?"  My voice wobbles, my hand swats at my face as I turn my back on him and try to hide my tears.

"Well I got in my car and started driving."  He explained, honestly, with no masks.  It was so very refreshing.

"Why?"  My back still to him, my hand resting on the railing by his.  Still cold.  Still so cold.

"I heard.  I'm sorry.  I was worried."  His hand covered mine.  So warm.  Warmth shooting up my arm.

"The warehouse, an hour."  I explain quietly and slip my hand from under his.  I walk back the way I came.

Warmer.

Still cold but warmer.

I look back.  He's watching me go.  All my masks are gone.  I was wrong; he could still take them off so easily.

I don't want him too.  He takes them and twists them into worry.  Worry that rests in his eyes, across his brow.  I don't want him to worry.  I don't want him to care.

But I do want his arms around me again.  I do want him to whisper into my ear and tell me it's not my fault.

I want him to believe in me.

I don't know why...  but I want him to...

I don't know what I want anymore.


End file.
